


Solace

by ElizabethWilde



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-11-23
Updated: 2005-11-23
Packaged: 2018-05-03 01:44:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5271896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElizabethWilde/pseuds/ElizabethWilde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Some nights Connor didn’t come to bed.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Solace

Some nights Connor didn’t come to bed. Normally Wesley didn’t go looking for him. The boy liked to stay up. He enjoyed the night, enjoyed hiding in the shadows and staring out the window. Sometimes even when he did come to bed, Wesley would awake the next morning to find that the lithe young man was no longer beside him but inside unconscious in a chair next to the window, his forehead resting against the glass.

Wesley likes the nights when he does come to bed. It doesn’t always mean that there will be sex, though Connor’s appetite is certainly voracious. Sometimes it only means that the boy will curl up against him and hold fast through the night. He likes those nights best. He sleeps soundly with his young lover at his side and Connor’s breath in his ear. 

They rarely talked, even when they were together, and never in front of the others. Wesley supposed it wasn’t a secret. Angel could smell it on him. The rest never asked, but Wesley imagined that they had seen Connor slipping into his room often enough that the questions weren’t necessary. He didn’t really care what they thought. Connor offered him something that he hadn’t had in a long time – peace. When they were together in the night, he felt more at ease than at any other time. 

The others could cast judgmental glances their way as much as they cared to. Connor put no stock in the cultural taboos that most people put so much effort and thought into. Wesley was coming around to his way of thinking. Let them glare at him and judge him for taking the boy to his bed. They made each other happy in their own fashion. It wasn’t a grand passion. There were no hearts or flowers. They felt safe together, comfortable, and their bond was as simple as that. As complicated as that. 

Sometimes while Connor watched the moon, Wesley watched him. He watched the longing in Connor’s face. He watched the yearning for something the boy never managed to put into words. Sometimes Connor saw him watching, and then an outstretched hand would be enough to draw him back into bed. Sometimes he would simply shake his head and look back out the window. Connor watched the moon while Wesley watched him.

The nights when Connor stayed away were the longest. Wesley often tried to stay awake long enough to be conscious if the boy changed his mind. Sometimes he awoke with the pleasant warmth of another body beside his own. Sometimes the room was still cold and empty. When it was, Wesley would sigh and roll over to sleep a bit longer. When he woke to the heat of Connor’s body pressed along his own, the morning often degenerated into more physical activity.

Someday they might feel the need for a label. They might want other people or other things. Until then Wesley lived for the nights when Connor quietly slid into his bed and, for just a few moments, made the world less lonely.


End file.
